Those With Wings
by Chiisarin
Summary: FE7. Florina found the most beautiful woman in the world, a woman even more beautiful than Lyn and Fiora. Then she found out the woman was a man. As close to a KarelxFlorina as there is possible.


_Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem, etc._

O_O

She only saw hair and blade, the small wink of silver slicing through the air followed by a whirlwind of ink-coloured strands; and then there was blood. And then there was death. But she had never seen death become so graceful, so mesmerizing, so _quiet_. The victim didn't even have time to cry out in pain or react so as the dead body fell down, there wasn't even a look of shock or surprise; just nothing. Death had suddenly become nothing, indifferent, _natural_.

"Even Lyn isn't this beautiful"; the traitorous thought flits through Florina's head before she even realizes it and once it processes, she feels shameful and tries to chastise herself for being so allured, so susceptible to the illusory scene of beauty before her. But beauty was just transient attraction isn't it? Something superficial? Yes, she loved Lyn and nothing could change that--but not even Lyn could make destruction seem as graceful as this person did.

Florina later asks Lyn when she gets the chance and points the person out, lurking around the outskirts of the party. She couldn't even see a face, just shadows and hair, long silky hair. "Who's that?"

"Hmm? Who? Oh, that's just Karel," Even Lyn stops cleaning her sword to stare for a moment, curious, pensive. "Yeah, there are just some people who really disappear outside of battle, huh."

Carol. Florina tries the name out in her mind, liking the way it felt. It sounded sweet, maybe a bit mysterious.

It was the name of the most beautiful woman in the world.

O_O

"Carol?" Serra repeats, a quizzical look on her face. "I don't think there's any woman in our army named _Carol... _black hair, you say? Maybe it's Karla? Long black hair, uses a sword, kinda a crazy demon woman, ooh, she gives me the _creeps _whenever I heal her."

"Maybe..."

But Florina had noticed Karla before and knew it wasn't the woman she had seen. They were similar, perhaps it was the hairstyle, but it wasn't the same person. Somehow, Florina could tell, she just _knew _that it wasn't Karla she had seen, moving so gracefully and smoothly. But Serra practically knew _everyone _in camp; then had Lyn gotten the name wrong, had she been confused?

Serra interrupts her thoughts before she can ponder too long. "So hey, why you looking for this 'Carol' woman, anyway? Don't tell me she's prettier than me--I'll have you know, I've held the title for 'Most Beautiful Woman in the Camp' for far too long to just give it up that easily to some newcomer," Serra screws her face up in a scary look of determination and Florina wonders if she made the wrong choice in asking Serra for information. "Hmph, as if anyone could be more beautiful than me."

"You are beautiful," Florina agrees, the obligatory response. Funny how their conversations always seemed to end up this way. She doesn't say anything more.

O_O

It's on a rainy day when she finally finds the woman; she had only come to quickly feed all the animals and return to camp as quickly as possible. And then she heard the ring of smooth silver, slicing through the air. Curious, if not a bit suspicious, Florina finds herself approaching the source of the noise when she looks outside to see her--Carol--practicing in the rain. For a moment, Florina can only stare, enchanted by how invincible the woman looked. So fierce, so invulnerable; it was almost as if the rain wasn't falling on her, rather it flying off, running away like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was a dance, Florina marveled to herself.

And then the woman comes to the end of her routine, movement stilling to a stop, her back facing still towards Florina. There is quiet (Florina always liked the sound of rain); raindrops splash the ground, pregnant and then dead. And then the woman suddenly talks.

"You are too weak to kill me. Turn back. "

--Florina's heart stops. She can't move. Her hand is gripping onto the railing with all her (puny, weak, worthless) strength to hold herself up, her legs having given up on her. All the previous magic and beauty of the moment is suddenly gone; it's all cold, and dreary, and wet, and grey.

The woman isn't a woman.

She blinks--there's not even a warning, no wind, no sound, just silence, just reaction--and there's a blade at her throat. He's right in front of her, dark shadowed eyes mercilessly penetrating her own, puncturing into an abyss of fear she didn't know existed until this moment, this very--_quiet_---moment. And yet, within the fear, there's an odd clarity that suddenly washes over Florina; she had never gotten this close to death before. Not so literally. Not so intimate. (It's always been at distance with her, for she had been too young when her parents had died to notice their absence like her sisters did.)

But I want to become stronger, she suddenly tells herself. But I want to show Fiora and Farina that I'm fine on my own.

And then the blade's gone, the pressure's lifted; she can breathe again. Florina blinks, taking a moment to process everything. She can _breathe _again. And then, remembering the woman--man, the man, she looks around, only to see the back of him as he walks away oh so calmly.

"Try again later." He says--what a deep voice, Florina notices; _definitely _not a woman--and he's gone.

She starts to feel the rain again.

O_O

"Florina, your form is all wrong."

She screeches, startled by the sudden intrusion of her practice and finds herself losing her grasps of her lance--and there it falls. So intensely focused on her practice, she hadn't even noticed the entrance of another person; she needed to work on that. Awareness, that's what she needed, she needed to be more conscious of her surroundings, needed to be like--she needed to be stronger.

"Fiora!" Florina stutters out as soon as she gets a handle on her lance again, the previous moment's intensity blundering into her usual clumisness. "I--I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

But Fiora, good old Fiora, she doesn't take any notice of her younger sister's attempts to regain some form of composure, doesn't really care about that; instead, she's going up to Florina and correcting her form, guiding her hands so they're a bit wider apart, a bit more open and loose. "You're handling the lance like it's almost a sword, you see? But this is a lance; we leverage fluidity and control for distance and range." She holds onto Florina's arms and moves them slowly, smoothly. "You strike like this. Do you feel how the arc is?"

"But my back feels so open like this," Florina says, anxious about the vulnerability she felt through the back of her arms, through her spine, through the air that suddenly seemed to touch so cold.

"It's been so long since you've been in an Ilian squad, it's understandable that you've developed bad habits," Fiora responds and takes the lance from Florina's hands, looking at it. "In a regular squad, knights are sent in teams; you can always trust your partner to protect your back. But this is a mercenary army, and it can't be taken for granted that we'll always be sent out with each other." She looks into Florina's eyes--not judgmental, no, never judgmental, just honest. Fiora was always the honest one. "And that is the strength as well as the weakness of being a Pegasus Knight: while we are constrained, even vulnerable somewhat in our position, we are also the only ones with wings. We can reach, rescue and save _anyone_."

She steps back, still holding onto the lance that she had taken Florina and in a flash, she's suddenly going through a lance form Florina had never seen before, twirling and spinning around like lightning, looking so unrestrained, so fast, so _free _that Florina almost didn't recognize her older sister. With a last strike, Fiora ends the form, an wide grin on her face and a wild gleam in her eye that almost unfamiliar. "But I'll admit, there are times when I prefer to go on foot."

"Where..." Florina breathes out in astonishment, still replaying the last scene in her mind, still trying to copy it all down and remember it for later. "Where did you learn something like _that_?"

Fiora smiles and Florina knows that smile, that smile she used to wear when hiding the birthday presents (or in Farina's case, the money), and she knows she's not going to get the answer. "It's just something I picked up while traveling around," Fiora responds with a vague, nonchalant motion and hands the lance back to Florina. "But think about it--and know I'll support you whatever you do--why did you choose to be a Pegasus Knight?"

She walks away before Florina can even think of an answer. "I want to be like you", she wants to say, "I want to be like you and Farina. I want to have resolve, I want to be useful, I want to understand you two"--the answers all fall flat in her mind, shadows of something else, something more tangible yet as the same time just so elusive. With an experimental sort of hesitation, Florina swings the lance that way that Fiora had just showed her. She feels exposed.

She feels unwell.

O_O

This rain isn't quiet _at all_. The droplets hit her hard, unforgiving, and she almost feels like she's crying as she tries to fight her way through the onslaught. "Come on Huey," she urges, rubbing the pegasus in encouragement. She knew the animal could barely fly with all the water weighing down his wings, but he _needed _to, he needed to get through it all, cold rain or not. "Come on Huey, I know you can do it."

She holds the even colder body closer to her chest, dreading that every feeble breath she feels upon her shoulder will be last--no, she can't let that happen. She won't. Not to this person; not to this man. (And suddenly, that's all he is. A _man_, a man she could feel, a man she could hold onto, because right now, he was just like anyone else, despite gender, despite form, despite fear. And what fear could she have in the face of death, what stagnation could she let overcome her now?)

"Lyn!" She calls, spotting the swordswoman keeping guard of the healer's tent and flies down. "Lyn, is Priscilla in? Please, take him. When I found him, he was already delirious from blood loss and--and--I'm sorry, he went unconscious somewhere along the ride--and--"

Lyn looks at the shaken Pegasus knight and notices the body she's holding, immediately reaching out to grab hold of it from her friend as she looks over and assesses the wounds. "Calm down, Florina, breathe. Who is this--_Karel_? Priscilla, we need you!" Lyn turns back to Florina, a mixture of astonishment and bewilderment on her face. "You mean, he let you... _touch _him?"

Florina nods, confused. But before she can ask any questions, Priscilla comes out to help. "Okay, the bed's ready, bring him in."

Lyn nods and turns to Florina, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry to make you and Huey continue traveling in the rain like this, but can you find Mark and tell him there's been a serious injury?"

(Fiora's words echo in Florina's head, suddenly remembering the phrase, repeating it like a mantra, like it meant something, like it was an answer. "We are the only ones with wings," her sister's calm, protective voice says. "Why did you choose to be a Pegasus Knight?")

Florina looks into Lyn's eyes as best as she can within the rain and nods, determined not to let some weather get to her. "Yes. D-don't worry about me."

O_O

"How is he?" She asks hesitantly. The battle was over, the rain had cleared up; she had returned as soon as possible. Karel still had not woken up.

Pent, having taken over from Priscilla to do the more serious healing, gives her a reassuring smile. "He'll survive, it will just take a while. Honestly though, if you hadn't found him when you had, even five minutes later, he might have been dead." He looks at her with a gaze full of respect. "You did a good job out there."

Florina shudders, unused to the whole feeling, unable to reconcile the image of Karel with a dead body, watching as Pent leaves the tent to brew another remedy. ("I heard you rescued your first person today," Fiora had told her earlier, her smile full of pride. "Well done.") She could only remember how short time suddenly seemed as she was flying, how brittle life suddenly appeared, how the small the world looked from where she was--but now she was back on the ground. Now she was the small one.

But her thoughts come to a stop and she stills--there's someone else in the room with her.

"I heard you saved my brother's life," Karla says, her tone soft, regretful, though about what Florina couldn't figure out. "Thank you."

"It was--I was just doing my duty," Florina responds just as softly, humbly. She turns to leave, figuring to leave the woman alone with her brother, when Karla's voice stops her, calls her back.

"Why did he let you bring him back?"

Florina blinks in confusion. "I-I'm sorry? I'm not sure... I understand your question."

The other woman is silent for a second, a wry flit of a smile on her face as she looks briefly to her brother--remembering something, perhaps?--before turning to look Florina seriously in the eye. "My brother, more than anything, fears dishonesty. It is his way to refuse the help of another for he considers it... cheating."

"Cheating?" Florina repeats. "Cheating what?"

"_Death,_" Karla bitterly replies; it appears again, that sardonic twist in her face and she takes a moment to pause, to look back at her brother. Her face darkens in thought. "My brother's life is merely one, great duel between him and death. And no one else. Yet, he let you touch him--not only that, he let you carry him, back to safety. Why?"

Florina bites her lip, wishing she didn't feel so awkward, so insignificant in all the talk about death and life. But she was only a soldier, she was only helping her comrade--she couldn't really say anything beyond that. "He was delirious," She responds lamely. "He--he wasn't in his right mind."

"Perhaps."

But the look on the older woman's face somehow seemed to say she thought otherwise.

O_O

A day later, When Florina heard that Karel had woken up, she found herself avoiding him for some reason--to the best of her ability, anyway. She didn't know enough about him to actually make a decent attempt about it, she had realized rather quickly. So instead, she decided to keep to herself, finding herself in the practice fields, practicing, trying to ignore the tingling in her back as she struck, trying to revel instead in the freedom in the weaknesses that she let herself have, in the wider movement, the further range, the ability to block--

--her lance moves faster than she realizes and in the clang of metal, Florina realizes she's face-to-face with a singing blade that she had only just barely blocked. Heart thudding too loud, she somehow feels a sense of thrill in remembering how her body just moved on instinct in feeling the wind of the approaching blade, all so smooth, all so natural; and then she looks at her attacker.

Karel draws his blade back casually, as if his attempt to slice down through had been all joke--no, it probably _was _a joke to him, Florina realizes, the rumours and gossip of his background having finally gotten to her sheltered ears, her finally seeing that the once beautiful idol was merely a doll, just barely breathing to play a dance with death. He looks over her and she can't decode the emotion in his eyes: condescension? bloodlust? something else? "I hear your interference saved my life," he comments, calmly.

Florina wonders suddenly if he's going to kill her--no, he was a still a part of this army. He couldn't possibly--no, he wouldn't jeopardize his position, would he? Not for some one as--as--as _small_ as her. Right?

(Maybe if she's silent enough, she might disappear.)

He continues to talk. "There is a Sacaean proverb; to save a man's life is to be responsible for it. I do not wish to be in your debt." He stops, the expressionless face turning into something of a grimace, a small little frown forming at the edge of his mouth. "I... will make sure you survive. Until the end. Then you will be repaid."

And before Florina can even process, much less protest, he has already disappeared back into a shadow. (How odd, he suddenly seemed so much like Lyn in that moment.)

O_O

"Oh! Florina! Look, there she is!"

Florina looks around, confused by Serra's excited antics. "Who?"

Serra snorts in impatience. "Carol!" She points to the familiar swordsman somewhere up ahead, walking beside Karla. "Do you see her?"

"Ah..." Florina decides not to correct Serra. "Yeah..."

"And look look! She's not so beautiful after all! ... ... heeeey, she kind of looks like a man, actually."

O_O

The tactician later tells her that due to his request, Karel would accompany her whenever she went scouting. The tactician had given her a rather quizzical look as he told her the new arrangement, but Florina decided not to elaborate upon it. She still wasn't sure how it happened herself.

"You are weak," He says their first time together, a chastisement at her fright at a noise that had only turned out to be a stray rabbit. And she wonders what he means; she remembers the stories she heard, how Karel the Sword Demon only went after the strong, didn't even bother with those inferior to his skills.

_And you let me save your life, _she wants to say in response. But she keeps it to herself.

O_O

**Author's Note: **I'll admit that this is my first venture back into the Fire Emblem after six years; the last time I wrote in this fandom, I was in sixth grade. So yeah, I figured I might as well go for the most insane pairing I could think while I was at it and bam, Karel/Florina.

But please, tell me your thoughts, if it seemed plausible, if I ended it too early, etc etc. And thanks for reading!


End file.
